Page 124 of Trouble from Abroad
Mia’s palms cup my cheeks, steadying me, and I lean in. “It doesn’t make today any easier on me, though,” I admit.
Her hand traces my entire face, then combs through my hair, and I breathe her in. Her scent always settles something in me. “It’s easy to talk to you. To be with you. I think you know this, but I need to be sure. I’m not ashamed of you; I’m protective of Lily. You understand that, right?”
Mia holds my face with both hands and holds my gaze. “I do, of course I do. I’m protective of her, too. And Pres, I know this is just?—”
“Stop.” I keep it calm, but firm. “This isn’t ‘just’ anything.”
“What are you saying?” Her head draws back, and her mouth twitches at one corner. “That we are… something?”
“Are you pretending we’re not?”
She moves her lips, then swallows her silence.
“Mia, I know this has been fast. Crazy. Overwhelming at times. But I wouldn’t change a thing. Nor will I pretend I’m not falling for you.” Her lips part on a quiet breath. “So tell me, baby. What do you want this to look like when we’re not hiding in a hotel room?”
She presses at my chest, trying to make space, but I don’t give an inch. I warned her I’d trap her in my arms.
“Preston, we can’t dream of hypotheticals like that. I’ll have to go home soon.”
“What kind of visa did you come in on?”
“Tourist. Ninety days total. Liam kept me on his payroll back in London. I’m notofficiallyworking here as your nanny. Like I said, he asked for a favor and I came to help.” Ninety. My brain starts tearing calendar pages by the fistful. Meetings, school drop-offs, breakfasts, bedtime stories—her ghost fading away from all of them. A loud clock sets up residence in my head, tick-tocking my sanity away. The noise spikes so high I want to punch through it. My arm bands tighter around her before I can stop it.
“That’s not enough,” I say, too fast.
“Pres…” Just half my name, but it carries so much—sadness, warning,not now.
I swallow hard. Tell myself not to push.
“What?” It’s an honest question.
“You’re ready to go back to work.” Her fingertip traces shaky circles over my heart. “Your routinewillbe tight—stick to what keeps your head and body in check. Lily is doing great.” Her whole face brightens at my daughter’s name, the way it always does. “She’s in therapy; what happened is out in the open, so she can heal in her own time and way. Her performance in school has been really good, all things considered.” Mia looks up at me. “You’re both doing great.”
She’s pivoting to schedules and structure when all I can think about is losing her. I sit up against the pillows on the headboard and bring her with me.
“Because of you. And you know I’m not talking about the chaos you found and wrangled after your arrival.” Her finger stills. I choose the next words carefully, defusing the bomb leaning on my chest. “Tell me I’m not out of my mind, Mia. Tell me you feel it too. Or at least that you know you carved a place in my life only you can fill.”
“Pres, I…”
I take her hand, kiss every knuckle, then set it against my chest so she can feel what she does to me. “Mia, we’re doing much more than ticking boxes on a list.”
“I’m not ready for this conversation. Not right now. Please.” She lays her cheek back on me, choosing silence over an answer. It’s fear. So I press my tongue to my teeth and opt for restraint. I won’t cage her. Won’t push her into making a promise she can’t afford to keep.
“Okay,” I say, softer than I feel, reaching for neutral ground. “At least you’ll be here for Lily’s birthday,” I say as I turn off the lights.
Her head lifts, chin perched on my sternum; we find each other in the dark. “Oh. When is it?”
“In three weeks.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Which means the party should already be planned. Invitations sent. I’m very late to this.”
She catches my hand, kisses the top of it, and sets it under her chin like a pillow. “Don’t worry. I’ll start tomorrow.”
“I’m glad you’ll be here.” Ha. ‘Glad’ is an insult to what I feel. “Can you imagine if she asked for you as her birthday gift and I couldn’t deliver?”
Mia bites me playfully on my thumb. “You’re silly. So, can I plan the party? What do you usually do?”
“Of course you can. Lily will go wild with joy. And I’m helping.” One of her eyebrows climbs; I deserve it. “Fine. Historically, I outsourced it to a planner, or to Calista and April. Blake always hated doing those. Even missed her fourth birthday for a yoga retreat she absolutely couldn’t pass up. Sometimes we host it here; sometimes at Calista’s apartment—it’s the size of a city block. We’ll ask Lily what she wants in the morning.”
“Deal.” I can see the ideas spinning behind her eyes, but minutes later, she’s breathing soft against my chest.
